Dear First Years

Straight Outta Cambridge he enters the theatre,
Of the gifted and talented he quickly catches the names
and the slackers his pitchfork towards he aims.
Exposing the hungover,
Making the elite compete,
Arguably the best lecturer unless undesirable you’re deemed.

A three-hour long proof.
Students are rocking,
Caffeine pills they are popping,
A small dark square signifies the end of this tragedy,
A sigh of relief; he has finished this mathematical rhapsody!
“Examinable” he declares and turns to us with a grin,
The bewildered wide eyes stir excitement deep within.

Eyes are the window to the soul they claim;
Oh how they ignite at these so called frights,
It is our drug to get us through all those long sleepless nights.
It is but raw passion they mistake to be fear,
Mining for gold with our minds, to these wise men we adhere.
A mathematical journey we find ourselves on
Characters strange to the outside world, in the ATB… they are the Don.
Traditionally crazy, 98 percent did you say?!
Tell me what happened to the two percent you dropped that day?